Winter Days
by Loveforthestory
Summary: One Cabin. A winter day. And him. - Charloe.


She's pissed. He knows she is pissed. But she is kind of fucking hot when she is pissed _at him_ , so he soaks up the way she is looking at him right now. They are standing on a path in the middle of a silent forest. The sky is filled with the promise of snow. The shadows of another nightfall getting closer linger through the forest.

They have been walking for a full day now because Bass had told her yesterday that there were orders from Blanchard to supervise a camp 20 miles north from their camp. He has just told her that there are no orders from Blanchard. Things kind of went downhill from there.

'Excuse me?' Charlie looks at him with Matheson irritation in her eyes. She looks at him just like she used to look at him right before she would tell him to go hell. Or try to kill him. Or both.

'Yeah.. I kind of made that up.' Bass has to fight the proud and smug grin that is appearing on his face.

'So, what the hell are we doing here Monroe?' Her eyes fill with fire and more irritation.

Bass takes another step closer to her while he's checking if her hand is going to her knife, just to be sure. He's making sure he is standing right in front of her so she can only look at him. Her full lips are close. He lets the moment burn between them.

'Trust me, it's going to be worth it' His voice is low burning depth in the fading light of another winter day. His mouth lingers around her lips before he pulls away and steps away from her.

His shoulder bumps into hers while he keeps on walking. 'Yeah, I doubt that.' Her voice is filled with irritation and Matheson sarcasm.

'Fucking Mini Miles,' Bass mutters under this breath while he chuckles softly.

'Arrogant son of bitch,' Charlie grumbles, right before she follows him.

* * *

When Bass opens the door of the abandoned wooden cabin it's almost dark. He follows her with his eyes when she ignores him and walks inside the cabin. He follows her and closes the door behind them.

Charlie is aware of his eyes on her, _she always is_ , but she ignores him. She is tired, cold and thinking about all the ways she could kill him. She gets out of her jacket and moves it over a wooden chair while Bass starts a fire. The light of the fire adds a glow to the room and brushes the leather of his jacket.

He has known all day they that would end up here, here in this cabin that was waiting for them, hidden in the forest and shielded by old, tall trees from the rest of the world.

Charlie lets her eyes move through the intimate cabin. The room looks inviting. The light of the fire adds more warmth to the wood of the walls and it reflects in the small windows. She can vaguely see the shapes of the trees outside through the glass. The winter air outside brushes the glass from the outside. There is a small couch and an even smaller bed, but the sheets looks clean and warm.

When Bass' eyes find hers, she crosses her arms before her chest. 'Still not going to tell me why we are here?' The irritation in her voice is her last defense against the burning steel in his eyes.

Bass looks at her. He closes the distance between them with large, slow and certain steps. The sound of his boots on the wooden floor of the small room is reminding her of the man she once met in Philly. She tells herself to stand her ground. She refuses to look away from him. His eyes keep on burning with an intensity that makes something swirl inside of her belly. He stops right in front of her.

'We are here, _Charlotte._.' fuck, he loves saying her name while she looks at him the way she does right now, '…because I wanted it to be you and me.'

Her name is like a hot, hoarse tease, rolling of his lips. 'But Blanchard...' she starts, her heart and whole body rebelling against the thought of Bass dragging her all the way to this cabin so _he_ , could be alone with _her._

She knows that Texas is still recovering from the war. She knows both Miles and Monroe are needed to make sure the last patriots are gone to make the country safe again. But here he is. With her.

'If it's between you and Blanchard, than screw that son of a bitch…' his voice sounds rough and even deeper than it did before and suddenly, he looks taller, the blue steel in his eyes burning hot while he looks at her. He is arrogance, tall strength and wide shoulders, standing right in front of her.

Bass can almost taste her while he is standing in front of her. This is not the first time something will happen between them, he gets hard just by thinking of the night he fucked her against a tree in the shadows of the night, so close to their camp. She hadn't talked to him for four days after that night but he had known it wouldn't be the last time something would happen between them.

So it's not the first time something will happen. But it is the first time it will be them, together and alone. It is the first time he gets to look at her while he slowly works her to the point where he knows she will scream his name. He fucking wants her, here, alone. He wants to see her body, follow the lines of her body with his eyes in the soft light of the fire. He moves his fingers into her hair before he cups her cheek with his hand.

Charlie wants to tell him to go to hell but his kiss almost takes her breath away while he pulls her closer to his wide chest and hard thighs. He lifts her in the air with his strong arms around her middle and walks them both to the wooden dinner table behind her.

He wants to take care of her all night, but suddenly all he fucking needs and wants is to feel her wet warmth and slow turns into eager, possessive and hard. He turns her around, while he moves behind her. His fingers quickly open the button of her jeans while her first soft moan is his victory.

His large hands move her jeans and black panties over her hips. Charlie soaks up the way he presses his tall body against hers, while she listens to him opening the zipper of his jeans. She braces herself with her hands on the table in front of her.

When he fills her, his hands move under her shirt. His rhythm is deadly, reminding her of the way he fights. His hands around her middle steady her. When Bass feels how she is about to come, he turns her around. He places her on the table and moves between her thighs. He needs to fucking look at her while she comes. He needs to soak up knowing it is him who makes her come. He fills her again while he grunts her name. Her fingers dig into the skin of his back. His thrusts are rough and fast, his kiss is slow until it becomes bruising again. Charlie surrenders to him and lets herself disappear into the rhythm of his thrusts. His name is a whisper against his salty warm skin. When she comes, she hides her face in the warm space between his jaw and shoulder while he wraps his hand around her head. When he comes he curses and roughly whispers her name in her ear, while she moves her arms around his neck.

* * *

The forest is quiet, the way only snow can silence a forest. The fire is slowly adding warmth to his night with her. It caresses her soft, smooth skin. Bass knows she will go hunting in the morning. He knows she will look beautiful as hell in the first morning light while snow covers the forest. He knows he will show her all the things he wants to do to her body after that. On the couch in front of the fire. On the table. In bed. Hell, _everywhere_. He also knows they will have to go back later this week because if they don't, Miles will come looking for them, and he will track them down and fucking kill him if he doesn't bring back Charlotte. But for now, she is right here with him. He doesn't have to share her with anyone. Protective pride fills his chest the way the fire fills the room with light and warmth. He presses a kiss in her hair.

'Still pissed?' Bass asks, with a lazy grin on his face.

'Maybe. Might try to kill you in your sleep later, Monroe.'

Bass looks at her, kisses her with a rough deep kiss and searches for her eyes with his again. 'Yeah, I doubt that'.

Her response is a wide, _fucking beautiful as hell_ smile before she pulls him closer and her mouth hungrily asks for his.

* * *

Author's Note: This story has been living on my laptop for such a long time now. This morning, I woke up to fresh snow and it inspired me to make coffee, grab my laptop and finally publish this winter story. I love winter (and snow and fan fiction) and writing about winter and snow, so I might return to this cabin in the forest and write more. Love from Love


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